Enough is Enough
by StarsForecast
Summary: A short AU-story centered around Uchiha Fugaku's life, and the interactions between he and his father. Rated as such because of mentions of death, slight violence, blood and a curse word. Original Characters are present in this, don'tlike/don't read   ;


**Aythors note: This was written way back when. I decided to finally post it here. I do not have much confidence when it comes to my writing, but I like this piece, even with all its faults. It's VERY AU, I think. Based around the Uchiha clan, and Fugaku and his father.**

**Original Characters are present in this, so if you do not like fandom ocs, you shouldn't read this. ^^; **

**I hope you enjoy! **

**Rated as such because of mentions of death, slight violence, blood and a curse word.**

* * *

The heir was crying.

And_ loudly._

Yashiro sat across from the younger man, mouth pulled down in a grim frown and eyes trained onto the police officer across from him. It took a lot to bring the blood flowing to his cheeks, but here he was, blushing deeply and feeling as if fleeing would be his best bet.

But at a time like this, could he abandon his heir? What would happen if someone were to find him, in his current state? They would never live it down. Though it isn't as if everyone ould not hear him... Fugaku needed to be calmed and quickly.

"It isn't fair..." He was whining, rubbing his hands against tear stained cheeks and smearing the blood from those hands across his face. He was making a mess of himself, and as Yashiro watched he let out a quiet sigh.

He had always believed the two hated each other.

* * *

_"That's my brother?"_

_He was a small four year old, who was still sniffling a little from the cold that he had barely just recovered from. His mother, Junko, was unyielding on the matter of letting her son outside of the house, yet Kagami had managed to leave the whole of the compound without being seen._

_And with a talkative child._

I should be rewarded. _"Yes," He answered slowly, a weak and rare smile gracing his lips as he knelt down next to his son. When Fugaku had been one year old his father had turned his back on his existence; he had chosen to no longer pay any positive attention to the child. The leader had decided that his mother would raise him, until it was his time to be educated in the shinobi way._

_Because that was what this small child was going to be. Uchiha Fugaku would be raised as a shinobi, and taught countless ways to kill before his eighth birthday. He was the heir to the whole of the Uchiha clan, and had already mastered the Great fire ball jutsu. He showed true promise._

_No point getting attached._

_"How old is he?" The small child demanded, becoming impatient with the neglect and silence. "Is he my babby brother?"_

_This toddler didn't yet know the fear that Kagami could administer with only a single glare; didn't yet understand the resentment and anger that could stem from such a simple thing as life, and he wasn't afraid to speak loudly and be heard._

_The father gave a slow shake of his head. "The child is five...he will be five forever, Fugaku." He said, speaking quietly as he glanced towards the confused toddler, "Do you know why?"_

_Pursing his lips, and falling down to the ground, the boy began to pluck blades of grass from the ground, staring at the small plaque that stuck a few inches from the surface, clean and gleaming in the sun light that was slowly dying away as clouds passed._

_"Noo."_

_Kagami gave a slight shrug, indulging in the small boy's playing and helping him to pull up a few stubborn pieces of the greenery. "He's stuck in time. Like a loophole, never aging. Do you understand?"_

_"Yeahh." Large and dark eyes that reminded him of his wives traveled upwards, locking onto his own, while a small smile spread across his son's face. The child didn't have a clue as to what he was talking about._

_"Can I see him?"_

_When you die. "No, he's gone from here... you'll never know your older brother Fugaku, do you know why?"_

_The more the dark haired child sat there, the more it seemed as if he was back with his teachers, being schooled and having question upon question thrown at him. Smiling a little wider now, he threw the grass he had collected into the air, "Should I?"_

_"Because he was weak." Kagami reached up, pulling a blade from the ebony hair, and allowing his own smile to slowly slip away. "And he died."_

_The pout had become more prominent, and leaning forward, Fugaku began to wipe the plaque clean. He was obviously working the words through his mind, calculating their meaning, and trying to understand all of the tiny implications and meanings his young mind couldn't quite comprehend._

_"What...does it mean, to die?"_

How did that make his brother weak?

* * *

_Years had passed and Fugaku had grown into a fine shinobi. He excelled at the academic work he was given, he surpassed the genin and chuunin level and was soon a jounin. All this had happened in record time, Kagami should have been proud of his only son, and heir, yet he wasn't._

_Despite everything, Fugaku continued to prove to be disappointing._

_He had grown to be a weakling in his own sense, constantly the troublesome cry baby. The unreliable type despite his talents, and the powers that should have come from his heritage. He was a far cry from the heir that Kagami had hoped Junko would give him._

_Maybe Manabi would have been, if he had lived. It was a constant thought, running back and forth in his mind, before he shoved it further and further away. It was useless and pointless to be thinking about such a thing, Manabi had gone and there was no changing it._

_Yet Fugaku was still there._

_It was possible, that he could mold the boy into the shape he wanted him to be, if only he could find the crack in his shell that he knew was there. That one point of weakness that would allow him to control and manipulate the teenager._

_They weren't friends truly, the people Kagami associated and surrounded himself with, but connections. Something important and useful in the future, that he could use to meet his own needs in the end._

_His son was different. He had but one connection, and thought of it as an actual friend. Something dear and important. The fact that it was a young Konoha shinobi of no real significance made it all the more despicable. Kagami had attempted to ignore it, as he had done to all the other things the heir did, but when the two boys ended up getting shit faced-and that was exactly what it was-Kagami thought it was about time he did something._

_If his son could get drunk enough to redecorate a whole room, and then some, it meant it was something that Junko couldn't handle._

_Bastard Konoha citizens. That had to be the reason; Fugaku had never once paid attention to his alcohol before meeting that Shinichi child, yet now he was and somehow Kagami was out of three bottles of his most expensive types of sake._

_The thirteen year old future leader of the Uchiha clan sat across from him, looking worse for wear. His hair was rumpled, from when he collapsed passed out on the floor, his clothes wrinkled and showing signs of having been worn previously during a training bout._

_Fugaku didn't look quite all there either, as he stared, bleary eyed, around the room._

_"You're a disappointment." He spoke bluntly, and without reserve. If this child believed that he could behave like a grown up, and do the few things that were only for them, he would be treated the same way as the rest of the Uchiha who stepped out of line._

_He was no longer a 'son' but just another person._

_A pained expression registered on the teenager's face, dark eyes quickly shifting to the table that separated the two. Fugaku was easily bothered, he was a sensitive person. Just like his mother... it was another thing that needed to be ground out of him. "I didn't m-" He was cut off by the soft chink of china tapping against the wood surface. Fugaku knew that his father had purposely made the noise, and didn't risk a glance upwards as he finally set the glass down._

_"Excuses. Don't waste your breath, because I wont listen." It was honestly too bad that the youth did not appear to have any headache of the sort, he would have enjoyed increasing his voice past the usual volume he used. Inflicting a little pain was ideal, for Kagami, if it didn't put his life in danger._

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"Do not speak." He hissed. Fugaku knew that his father kept all of his rage, anger, resentment, all of those things and more bottled up. Boiling just beneath the surface, ready to erupt and burn whoever was closest._

_Shinichi had been right in a way, doing stupid things had caught his father's attention, but it was actually quite frightening to be sitting across from him. Somehow, when the two teenager's had been plotting the stupid incident of ealier, they had forgotten just who Kagami was._

_And how, unlike his friend's father, he wouldn't laugh it off._

_"I-"_

_Before he could even come to comprehend what had happened, Fugaku had hit the floor, face stinging and his eyes threatening to water from the impact. He more heard his father stand, then saw him, and held his breath as Kagami moved across the floor, and right past him._

_The leader paused at the door, sliding it open so forcefully he had almost knocked it off the runners. "Do not invite that boy over again. Ever."_

_

* * *

_

_Having people followed and watched was easy. He had the whole of the clan at his disposal; they weren't quite as small as the future promised nor were they in as large of a demand. The news had arrived even before his son did. But it still brought a smile to his lips. Shinichi had died and Fugaku lived._

_It was a good sign._

_

* * *

_

_When Junko first got sick, Fugaku had only recently passed his sixteenth birthday. The weather was still reminiscent of summer, the flowers out back of the household had yet to wither, and the sun burned down hot and bright on the village._

_Now twenty, and since then she had continued to linger in the middle of sickness and perfect health, one day she would seem well, and the next Junko wouldn't be able to get up from her bed._

_Fugaku sat next to his mother, securing the arm guards on. He would be leaving soon, and the guilt that was settling in on his conscious was likely to stay there for a long time. It wasn't as if she was being treated poorly; his father had made sure that medics were there to check on her when need be, hell even his own sister was a medic and lived across the road._

_If something happened, there would be more then enough able hands to care for her._

_Yet somehow, that made him feel worse._

_"You two act just alike." The voice was gentle and raspy from lack of use. Fugaku looked upwards at his mother, and smiled a little, she rarely spoke and when she did it was like a tiny accomplishment, though he didn't usually agree with her few comments._

_"Who?"_

_"Both you and your father...when you're thinking too hard about something, you somehow manage to mess up whatever it is you're doing." As if to show him exactly what she meant, Junko reached up and began to unclasp the bands for his arm guards, fixing them correctly and giving his arm a light pat. "You also take too long on the simplest of things."_

_Fugaku nodded, letting his gaze wander to a small vase. It sat on the table that was was positioned against the wall directly upside them, usually it harbored some type of colourful flower but as of late it stood empty._

_His mother was the only one that filled it._

_"You like...hellebores, right?"_

_She looked up, one thin and dark brow raising, while a faint smile played against her sickly pale face. "Yes."_

_"This winter...let's pick hellebores together."_

_

* * *

_

_His mother had died long before winter ever came. Fugaku had been on a mission, and upon arriving home, was abruptly informed that they would be holding a funeral for Uchiha Junko._

_'Go get cleaned up, and meet us outside.'_

_He had stood, staring at his cousin. Fugaku had narrowed his eyes, arms dropping down to his sides and the back pouch he had taken off a second before falling from his suddenly slack grip. Unable to force the words he wished to say out, the heir simply stood silent, allowing Yashiro to move past him and out the door._

_After a moment, he retreated deeper into the house, doing as he was instructed before heading out in search of the rest of the attendees._

_Everything passed in a blur. How could his mother have passed on? The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the clear blue sky, no loud cries or wails of remorse, just the silence that was broken every now and then by passing laughter as Konoha children ran through the roads playing shinobi._

_He leaned forward, looking towards his father with a scowl. Kagami looked the same as usual, if not for a more prominent scowl, simply standing with his arms crossed and looking straight ahead. No mark of sadness or pain at losing the woman he had married years before._

_Fugaku scoffed, ignoring the confused stares and glares sent his way._

_That was it._

_

* * *

_

_Days had passed and yet nothing had changed._

_Fugaku sat on the back porch, twisting the fabric of his kimono in his hands, and glaring at the small pound and the koi fish that circled the surface of water, searching and searching for any remains of the bread chunks he had tossed in a minute before._

_"Fugaku?"_

_He ground his teeth together, not bothering to look back. The heir might not have heard that voice often yet he would recognize it any time. "What?" He hissed, not bothering to mask the anger he had been building up since his return._

_This was the first time they had spoken in weeks, and already it was going down the drain._

_A pause, then his father moved closer, stepping up beside him. "You aren't crying, are you?" He knew that the level of how awkward and stiff he felt addressing such a problem was evident in his voice yet he couldn't help it for once. He despised crying. It was one of the ultimate weaknesses._

_Fugaku had slowly looked upwards at his father, continuing to scowl. His eyes indeed were red, but not from crying, it was strain from not sleeping, on top of continually using his sharingan. No he hadn't been crying, he didn't cry. Ever. Shaking his head, the future leader stared forward, back to the koi who were moving back to the safety of the bottom of their home. He had left the confines of his own house in an attempt to calm himself, yet the peace and serenity seemed to only mock him, and the added presence of his father only intensified that feeling._

_"Good. It would be a pointless waste of your time...just like sitting out here is. Shouldn't you be training?"_

_"I got injured on my mission..."_

_Kagami stared blankly at his son, before letting his breath out in a long sigh. The older he become, the worse the child reminded him of his no good father. Father and son shared no similarities in this case, and he knew that some of the older Uchiha sometimes wondered about the heir's linage, but he knew Junko had been faithful. She had been loyal, and that loyalty had never broke._

_"Get to work, I wont condone laziness."_

Fuck_. He thought, nodding and letting his eyes drift closed as he listened to his father's retreating foot steps. Fugaku was weak; he realized that now more then ever. The fact that he continued to allow his father to push him around, to treat him like some ridiculous child was infuriating proof. The matter that he couldn't bring himself to shed a single tear was even worse proof._

_

* * *

_

The laughter rang throughout the kitchen, the father shushing his child quietly while suppressing laughter of his own. If his wife were more daring, he would have to worry about her coming to yell at them for the mess of batter that his son had spilled across the counter, and for some reason found disturbingly hilarious. Attempting to wipe the mixture off of his cheek and only managing to smear it further, the boy inhaled deeply, trying to stifle his laughter as well.

"We need to be quiet, if we don't want to be found out." The grown man warned, amusement clear in his black and usually guarded eyes.

The high chair ridden baby looked around keenly, as if searching for something despite his short attention span. Spotting it, the boy began to clap his hands together excitedly, making mumbling noises that held no significance or real meaning.

Following his gaze, Kagami smiled at the messy haired and older boy, who had just crawled out from underneath the table, smiling shyly and looking towards his baby brother.

"Ah, Manabi, come make biscuits with us."

_Dark eyes snapped open, and Fugaku inhaled deeply, shoving the heavy blanket aside. It seemed he had been holding his breath, as he slept, dreaming about..._

_'Something that never happened or would.'_

_Fugaku had no idea what his brother had looked like, and had barely been one when he had died, it was unlikely that he could possibly remember that far back. But it seemed like a real memory..._

_He turned over in his futon, staring broodingly at the tatami. It would have been nice, to have a pleasant memory of his father, something to grasp onto when all he had were ill willed thoughts._

_

* * *

_

_Seconds turned into minutes, days bled into months, and soon years were creeping away into the past._

_And every time spring began to slowly change, he grew worrisome. Fugaku didn't like summer time, it seemed to always bring on bad omens and even worse incidents. It just so happened he had been born during summer, and his birthday was carefully nestled into that time, always lurking and threatening worse._

_The heir didn't hate aging, just what came with it._

_During one late summer night, as a loud sound swept over his sleeping form, stirring and shaking his house, he opened onyx eyes and took in the familiar scent of burning wood._

_It wasn't a surprise. Not even in the slightest bit: more or less, Fugaku had just expected it later._

* * *

Smoke streamed through the room, coiling and spinning into the air in a dance of it's own, before it was pushed away by the air. Fugaku had fallen down against the rumpled and now stained futon, hair hair falling in all directions and hiding his face from view.

Yashiro sat jaw taunt and eyes narrowed. He wasn't the fidgeting type, but at the moment he had to stop himself from doing it, as tired as he was he couldn't quite understand everything that had happened.

He glanced to the side, where the wall should have been. The birds chirped nosily, the sun had already risen, shining down on the mess below, and reflecting off the red pond behind the house.

"T...this is all my fault.." His words were muffled and almost inaudible, but Yashiro had caught it, in the still morning air. Turning his gaze onto the shorter man, he shook his head.

"Fugaku, you..."

"It is..." Pity parties had never suited him; they weren't the sort of thing for Fugaku to waste his time with, but here he was, blaming himself for something that couldn't possibly be on him.

Slowly the heir sat up, bringing one hand up to brush back his bangs, sniffling and looking anywhere but his cousin and the blood stained blankets.

"I wished for it before, a few times actually... I'm...I'm selfish, I wasn't thinking of the clan, I just-"

"Fugaku." The officer's voice was stern, eyes hard and cold as he looked at the dark haired adult. "You're the leader of the clan now, so stop sitting here and crying. Get cleaned up, and address your men."

Was that all there was to the summer morning? Shinichi had died in the summer, his mother, possibly even Manabi and now...

Now Kagami had died during the summer, the cheery and warm weather mocking them and their tragedies.

They're dead, and he was just supposed to move on?

When his friend had died, he didn't cry, when his mother died he couldn't cry...and now, losing the last real family he had, the man that had treated him so indifferently, Fugaku couldn't hold it in anymore.

Something had _snapped,_ and never would be whole again.

Rubbing at his eyes, he looked slowly at his cousin. There was no festivity, no special ceremonies or anything of the sort. Uchiha Kagami had died, and that meant that he was the leader.

It was done, whether he wanted it or not.

Exhaling slowly, Fugaku nodded. "You're right."

* * *

_"To die...is to no longer be present in anyone's heart." Kagami said, slowly standing and dusting his kimono free of any wrinkles or residue from kneeling on the ground._

_Squinting at the name worked into the plaque, Fugaku slowly shook his head, tiny finger tips tracing along the indentation._

_"Manabi isn't dead!"_

_Kagami slowed to a stop, refusing to look back. The corners of his mouth had pulled down in a frown, and his tone was anything but sweet. "What?"_

_"Because...he's in my heart! After all, he's my brother." Fugaku smiled, rubbing at his nose as he stood and ran to his father's side. Kagami had shook his head, choosing not to respond to the small child, as he leaned down and scooped him up and began to head home._

_The small smile he wore stated plainly how he felt at his son's words, but the four year old had missed it, as he leaned against his father's shoulder and closed his eyes._

_**-End**  
_


End file.
